13 Days of Halloween
by imjustpeachee
Summary: This is a collection of stories for Halloween that bring the dark, creepy, and downright disturbing all together...can you handle it?
1. Day 1 - Trepidation

Hello everyone! Happy belated Halloween!

I know I haven't been particularly active on here but I promise you I am still alive, and I have a brand new collection of stories for you! This started as a challenge between two of my friends and I (Zelgadis55 and SampsonKnight) to see what we could come up with for Halloween based on 13 prompts. What we have here is my take on those prompts and the creep factor that is Halloween.

I hope you all enjoy these stories but I will warn you... **I will give no warnings before these chapters!** Some may have disturbing ideas or plots but that is intended based on the genre.

 **THIS WILL BE YOUR ONLY WARNING**

Continue at your own risk!

And speaking of risk...I don't own TMNT. This is simply a story written for fun and nothing more.

Happy Reading!

* * *

It wasn't like she didn't trust them. It was just…there were moments. Brief, fleeting moments where she wasn't sure if she recognized her friends anymore.

Things had been hard since Splinter's death. They still wouldn't talk about it; dark, unnerving looks on their faces that made chills run up and down her spine. They had also been asking for strange things lately. Bleach. Acid. Cling wrap. She had joked they were beginning to look like serial murderers with their odd shopping list. The resulting silence made the laughter die in her throat.

So when they invited he down to the lair for a "movie night" it was with trepidation she made her way into the dark twisting tunnels of the sewers. It was storming so her usual route was blocked with slick debris. Feeling brave, April moved to a new set of tunnels in the hopes of reaching the lair dry.

As she rounded the corner, a crunch under her boot made her jump back in confusion. Looking down, she was horrified at the stark white bone that had snapped beneath her weight. Shaking she peered further into the tunnel and nearly heaved. There were piles of bones and bodies in different stages of decay. Scraps of Foot uniforms littered the remains. A draft of rancid air blew in her face, making her hunch over, as she was sick all over the floor. Stumbling backwards she blindly groped the wall behind her for support. A break in the tunnel had her tumbling into a small alcove.

As her gaze lifted from the floor she froze. A new set of remains laid before her, separate from the bodies of the Foot, and most decidedly not human. That brown robe…and that cane!

The brush of a hand on her shoulder made April jump and scream. Whirling around she saw them, standing like an impenetrable wall. One stepped forward and heaved and exasperated sigh.

"You weren't supposed to see that you know…"


	2. Day 2 - Moon

Contrary to what his brothers may think, he hated the moon. That bright orb gave weaker creatures a chance.

Ever so softly the footfalls of his prey drew closer. His mouth pulled back in a feral grin, as the moon beamed down on the wary human.

Oh who was he kidding, they _never_ stood a chance.


	3. Day 3 - Shadows

Leo always felt safe in the shadows. Each deep shadow was his haven. A place always waiting to swallow him and his brothers whole at a moment's notice.

Running across the rooftops, he couldn't help but smile as he watched his brothers dance in and out of the darkness like apparitions. Not even he could distinguish between them in this black night. The shadows were their playground. In darkness, no human could touch them.

The night was quiet except for the soft hum of streetlamps, illuminating an empty street. Opaque clouds rolled across the night sky obscuring the moon, much to Leo's delight. Tonight seemed to hold a special kind of power. It was if his brothers were of one mind, seamlessly taking his directions without a word passed between them. A perfect execution of deadly silence.

So it went as their patrol around the city continued, shadows within shadows lurking above the brightly lit street below. However when a thrill of fear slithered up his spine, Leo jerked unsteadily to a halt. Glancing about, he counted only two shadows ahead of him. With a growing dread, Leo's gaze darted across the rooftops looking for a third.

Feeling a chill behind him, Leo whirled around looking back across the roofs they had left behind. There, against a large alcove was the missing brother. Frowning, Leo motioned for the lagging member of his team to join them, but was stunned when the shadow slowly stepped into a deeper shadow and disappeared. Growling lowly, the leader motioned for the others to fall back to collect their brother. Without a word they followed, bleeding into the darkness.

As they approached Leo called softly and was met with silence. Crouching to the ground, Leo tried to find any trace of the brother hidden in the gloom. Nothing. Glancing behind him he froze when only one silhouette met his gaze against the dark sky. Where was the second brother?

Standing sharply, Leo opened his mouth to demand his second brother show himself. The shadow before him cocked his head to the side before stepping backwards off the ledge of the roof. Crying out in horror Leo rushed to the edge, peering down into the pitch black of the alley below.

It was as he was preparing to swing himself over the side that the long line of street lamps popped and shattered, leaving the block in darkness. The turtle's eyes blew wide, trying to adjust to the deprivation of light. Gripping the ledge tightly, Leo became aware of a presence watching him. Tensing Leo grabbed his katana before settling into a defensive stance. Quickly, he closed his eyes, bringing his other senses forth to counteract the gloom that obscured his enemy. Breathing softly, Leo listened for the scrape of a foot across the concrete of the roof, a barely there breath released, even the soft singing of a weapon cutting through the air. He heard nothing.

Gripping the handles of his swords tightly Leo reached out with everything he had, straining to catch even the slightest hint of the oncoming threat. Sweat beaded on his brow before dripping slowly down his scales, soaking his mask. The air grew colder freezing Leo's feet, slowly climbing up his legs with icy tendrils. Listening harder, Leo realized he could hear nothing. Not even his own breath. Opening his eyes with a snap, Leo was greeted with nothing but black. The ice in the air was now creeping higher; filling his lungs with each breath he took. It was pervasive. A blanket of cold that soon burned in his chest as he dragged great gulps of air trying to keep the panic at bay.

Total sensory deprivation. Master Splinter had warned what it could do to a person, even one skilled in the ways of the shadows. Don had explained that short-term sessions of sensory deprivation are described as relaxing and conducive to meditation. However, extended or forced sensory deprivation can result in extreme anxiety, hallucinations, and bizarre thoughts. If this was the Foot's latest scheme, he would _not_ fall prey to it. Taking a deep breath despite the burn of the icy cold, Leo worked to settle his mind, closing his eyes.

Gently, the brush of a hand slid across the back of his neck. Whipping around, Leo slashed angrily, connecting only with empty air. A jarring scraping hit Leo's ears before the pain. Gasping sharply Leo jerked backwards away from the piercing pain. With a shaking hand, he felt the four deep gouges running down his plastron. It was becoming harder to breathe.

Frantically Leo struck out at the darkness, screaming in frustration as once again he was unable penetrate the shadows. Again the brush of hands slid up his sides before slamming him to the ground. Deep impressions on his shoulders kept him pinned as the air became heavy, moving like a living thing.

Leo struggled and fought; screaming in fear and anger as the weight slowly enveloped him. The barest outline of a shape met Leo's eyes before he blinked and it was gone. Opening his mouth in a defiant yell, Leo could feel something enter his mouth, filling his throat until nothing came out but a silent scream.

As his strength left him, Leo felt the weight begin to lift him up; his pliant body no longer under his control. Gently hands enclosed his throat, pressing with just the slightest amount of pressure. Tears pricked the corners of Leo's eyes as the thing filling his mouth pressed deeper, painfully reaching into his lungs. With a violent jerk Leo gave one last attempt to fight, to break free of the shadow that ensnared him. The hands about his neck quickly cut into his windpipe as they squeezed. The weight turned sharp as razor thin slivers appeared on him, freeing the cooling blood from his body.

The torture was slow. Leo couldn't even see when his vision dimmed, the shadows stealing away any and all senses and thought. There was only the crushing weight, lack of air, and bitter cold. Leo trembled as he felt the hands tighten. The last of his strength fled as the weight wrapped itself around his lungs and _squeezed._ Shaking, Leo felt his final breath leave him, alone in the shadows.


	4. Day 4 - Nyctophobia

Mikey had always had a fear of the dark. Leo found it odd, that a ninja was afraid of the dark. Donnie rationalized it. Called it Nyctophobia, the extreme or irrational fear of the night or of darkness. As far as Raph was concerned, there was nothing irrational about that fear. There were things that did a whole lot more than "bump" in the night.

Looking for his opening, Raph kept his eyes glued on Leo who was watching the news. Luckily a report on crime rates soaring gave him the opportunity he was looking for. Jumping on the topic, he railed at Leo, claiming it was his ineptitude that led to the rise in gang violence. It was a flimsy argument, one Leo wouldn't actually feel guilty over, but it was enough to escalate the dispute to the point Raph needed.

"That's it. I'm outta here!"

He stormed out of the lair, ignoring the calls for him to return. Leo would tell them he just needed to blow off some steam. It was what Raph did after all. As the lair faded from view, Raph's expression turned grim. Gripping his sais he began his patrol in the gloom of the sewer tunnels.

Dark and unnatural things lurked in the shadows. Frightening and frankly disturbing things that shook Raph to his very core. He was afraid of the dark and the things that went bump in the night.

But like hell he would let them take his family.

He would just have to "bump" right back.


	5. Day 5 - Blood

Mikey prided himself on his cooking skills. Several times a day, he would brag how his little family would stave if it wasn't for him. Not to mention his flair for the creative when it came to recipes. It always fascinated him the number of ways simple ingredients could come together into a cacophony of flavors.

Now of course he had his bad days where his "creativity" got him into trouble, but what was he supposed to do? Cooking was never supposed to be _boring_. In fact he tried his hardest to never cook the same dish twice in a week. It was a little personal challenge that kept him on his toes and pushing the boundaries of his skill.

Of course this meant constantly searching for new ingredients, which honestly wasn't easy for a mutated turtle. Sure April or Casey would help him out when they could, but more often than not Mikey was left on his own to find ingredients. More times than he would care to admit, this would leave Mikey in a very bad mood.

It wasn't until a stroke of genius struck him that he discovered a whole new realm of cooking ingredients that not only gave him a challenge, but also was in a ready supply. After his first dish using his new base, Mikey was thrilled at the response his brothers gave. They loved the sauce, the meat was so tender, and the garnish really set the whole thing off.

Often they asked what he used, but like most successful recipes Mikey managed to pull off, he would claim it was a "family secret" much to the amused consternation of his brothers. It wasn't until they started trying to catch him gathering his materials that Mikey began to get frustrated. They wouldn't understand. They would just deny the fact the food was so good and not even give it a chance if they knew.

And so Mikey grew secretive. Hiding away until his creations were ready for serving, and not a moment before. Not only were his recipes getting more and more unique but the brothers couldn't help but notice the quality was getting better and better as well. Jokingly Donnie asked if Mikey was watching the cooking channel, while Raph joked he would be the next Emiril. Mikey just smiled indulgently and kept eating. Really this last dish was one of his favorites. He couldn't wait to make the next one.

And so it went with Mikey's cooking. His brothers would praise his ingenuity and skill, and Mikey would create dish after dish with his "Secret Ingredients." Raph just couldn't figure it out. When did Mikey learn this fancy cooking stuff? Was he really watching a cooking show? Did he have cookbooks hidden in his room? Turning to the living room, he saw Mikey staring intently at the TV screen. It was one of his favorite shows playing: Hannibal Lector.

The main character was serving blood sausage; except his ingredients were…oh gross the guy was using human blood! Raph shivered. He didn't get why Mikey was so hooked on the show. That Lector guy was just plain creepy. Walking up behind his brother, Raph peered over his shoulder, confused when he saw a notebook in Mikey's hands.

"What'cha doin' there Mike?" he asked.

Mikey turned to Raph eagerly, gripping his notebook with a manic glint in his eye.

"I'm taking notes Raphie!"


	6. Day 6 - Candy

The Thing clenched its teeth as the sweet prey flew down the sewer tunnel, giddy laughter echoing off the walls. Slowly it slithered from its dank perch in the piping and followed the sweet scent of the young turtle.

The turtle's innocent blue eyes danced with joy as the Thing drew ever closer. The turtle's orange mask was hidden slightly under the tacky, cheap "antennae" on its head. Cellophane wings, a crinkly mess on its shelled back. Still the Thing pressed closer. Stalking in the shadows and creeping silence between the drops of water from the ceiling.

"I love Halloween!" the turtle shouted, a bright smile on his face.

The Things smiled too. After all, what was Halloween without candy?


	7. Day 7 - Berserk

"Hit him again."

"But sir the blood loss-"

"AGAIN!"

The dull thump of flesh being struck came again, only enraging the beast. It couldn't even focus on one opponent. All it could understand was blind fury. Pulling, yanking, and jerking against the manacles on the wall, he raged at his assailants. Snarling incoherently at the lack of mobility.

"Impressive. I didn't think he would last this long."

"Sir, might I suggest a brief recess to-"

"Bring out the tools."

The assistant weakly nodded as he stepped away. The whole thing made his blood run cold and his stomach churn. To think that monster was lurking beneath the surface…they really _were_ animals. Shaking his head the assistant strode over to the tray of "tools" as his boss so eloquently put it. Really they were just weapons of various sizes and damages.

Wheeling back into the cell, the assistant hastily stepped back as the beast threw himself against his restraints, snapping his jaws at the two men. Blood flecked spittle flew from his mouth as a scream of rage echoed off the walls.

Reaching onto the tray his boss then stepped closer to the monster chained to the wall. With a manic grin Bishop raised the short blade over his head.

"Don't wear yourself out yet Raphael. We still have all night."


	8. Day 8 - Sepulchral

"Sepulchral refers to anything of or pertaining to burial," Donnie had explained to a very confused Mikey, as he prepared for his trip topside. He had used the word without realizing who he was talking to. Mikey scoffed and told Donnie he could keep his "genius lingo" to himself.

Donnie grunted as he lifted the heavy coffin lid revealing his prize.

Collecting the corpse into his bag, Donnie absently tried to think of a word in his "genius lingo" for _un_ -burying.


	9. Day 9 - Monster

Mikey raced ahead as Donnie rummaged through his bag once again, checking and double-checking his supplies. They were making a run to the junkyard since the wiring for the security cameras was running low. Hopefully they would be able to get a few spools among the junk if they were lucky.

"Come on Donnie-boy, daylight's a wastin'!"

The genius shook his head as the younger terrapin gamboled through the tunnel.

"It's night time Mikey," he sighed. "Kind of makes your point invalid."

" _You're_ invalid!" Mikey said sticking out his tongue. In all honesty he wasn't all that keen to go the junkyard late at night, even with one of his bros. Too many creepy shadows and noises coming from rusted-out old cars and busted two-by-fours.

Even now he stuck close by to his brainy brother. Sure he played the carefree kid, but in reality his nerves were on edge. Why did _he_ have to go with Donnie.

"You really shouldn't have taken that bet," Donnie smiled. Mikey vaguely wondered if he could read minds. Donnie was one wheelchair away from being Professor X! He was even bald!

"Raph just got lucky," he muttered, falling into step with his older brother. "How was I supposed to know he could unhinge his jaw like that?"

Donnie snickered at the remembered image. Mikey and Raph had made a bet concerning who could fit more grapes into their mouths, and surprisingly Mikey had lost. Raph would have gloated more if he hadn't started choking on a stray grape. _At least that was a consolation prize,_ Mikey thought glumly.

Reaching their destination, the two turtles quickly ascended the ladder gingerly lifting the manhole cover, checking to see if the coast was clear. Quickly they exited the sewers, darting through the shadows.

Mikey shivered against the bite of cold air. It was a clear night, almost eerily quiet. As he and Donnie made their way into the junkyard, Mikey sidled closer to the purple-banded terrapin. Already, long shadows threw themselves across the ground, ethereal shapes ghosting over the chilled ground.

"Dude is it just me or is this place creepier than usual?"

Donnie rolled his eyes, before giving his younger brother a push.

"Quit being such a goob," he said. "Let's just get what we need and go home."

Mikey glared at him, but moved to the closest pile of junk, sorting through the mismatched cables, plastic bottles and metal sidings. Here and there were a few promising wires, Mikey was quick to gather in his arms. _The faster we get what we need, the faster we can get the shell out of here._ Reaching forward, Mikey was able to get his fingers under the sides of a large metal sheet. Pulling it back was difficult, causing his arms to strain. Finally with a yank he was able to pull it out of the pile, chucking it behind himself with a huff.

Turning back, Mikey found himself staring into a black face with wide eyes and a wide toothy grin filled with crooked jagged points. Falling back with a scream Mikey scrambled back in fear. The dark eyes followed him as he backed himself against the rusted door of an old car.

"Mikey! Mikey what's wrong?" Donnie sprinted into view, turning the corner to see his little brother staring at a junk pile, screaming.

Rushing over Donnie grasped Mikey's shoulders.

"Mike! Come on bro what's wrong?"

Shakily Mikey grasped Donnie's forearms peering over his shoulder. The face only grinned back at him with those soulless eyes.

"Th-that face," he stammered. "It's watching me!"

Donnie quickly whirled around, whipping his staff out in front of him. Frantically he looked from side to side, peering into the shadows for whatever was watching his brother.

"Where Mikey?" he asked, still gripping his staff tightly.

"There! _There!_ Right in front there! It's smiling!"

Staring hard into the depths of the junk pile, Donnie slowly lowered his staff. Glancing about one more time, he wearily put it back in its holder.

"Mikey, there's nothing there."

Mikey jerked his gaze away from the chilling face to stare incredulously at his brother.

"How can you not see it?! It's right th-"

Mikey's voice died in his throat as he looked back to the junk pile and was met with nothing but trash. The face was gone.

"B-but it was there…" he whispered.

Annoyed, Donnie turned back to Mikey and knelt beside him.

"Mikey, there is nothing there. Your mind is playing tricks on you."

"No way dude that thing was real! It was-"

"Mikey! There is nothing. There."

Reaching down Donnie pulled the younger turtle to his feet, noting the way Mikey's large eyes kept darting around, looking for something that clearly wasn't there.

Sighing, Donnie reached down to collect what wires he had dropped, stooping again to retrieve the ones that had tumbled out of Mikey's arms.

"Come on bro. This should be enough to get the cameras running. Let's go home."

Slowly, Mikey began to head towards the exit, eyes ever watchful on the piles of junk. So when something tripped his feet, it was no surprise that he fell, unable to stop his rapid descent.

"Oooph!"

Mikey landed plastron first, knocking the air out of his lungs.

"Geez Mikey are you ok?"

Rolling gingerly to his side Mikey looked back and felt his blood run cold. Towering over Donnie was a black figure with a chilling grin and dark eyes. Ever so casually placed on Donnie's shoulder was a black hand.

"AAAAAAHHHHH!"

Donnie jumped back at his brother's scream.

"Mikey what the shell-"

"IT'S ON YOU! OH SHELL THE MONSTER IS ON YOU!"

Donnie frowned.

"Mikey enough! There is no such thing as monsters!'

The figure's grin grew wider as it bent low over Donnie's shoulder, peering at the petrified turtle still on the ground.

"GO AWAY!"

The figure bent back as Mikey reached for his weapons.

"Kekekekeke"

The sound was dry and soft, like sand being carried by a breeze.

"That's it! You can freak out over nothing all you want Mikey. I'm going home!"

With an air of finality, Donnie strode forward, brusquely knocking into Mikey's prone form, cutting the figure from his view.

Quickly, Mikey flung his gaze back only to find the monster gone once again. Scrambling to his feet, Mikey sprinted after his brother, feeling his heart pound in his chest.

"Donnie! Donnie please I'm not making this up! You have to believe me!"

Angrily Donnie kept walking, huffing in irritation.

"Mikey, I'm telling you, there is nothing there. Monsters are _not_ real, and the only way they could be is because you _let_ them!"

"What the shell does that mean?" Mikey asked angrily, gripping his nunchakus tight.

Donnie reached down to lift the manhole cover once again.

"The only monsters that are real, are the ones you let be real. It's all in your head."

With that, Donnie dropped into the dark sewers. Hastily Mikey followed, not willing to let his brother out of his sight. Still shaking, Mikey forced himself to think. Donnie couldn't see the monster. That much was clear. And yet he had not only seen the monster but _heard_ it too! What did it mean? Was that thing really just all in his head?

Still not entirely trusting Donnie's belief that his mind had created such a realistic thing, Mikey kept his weapons in hand, all the way back to the lair. Without even acknowledging his younger brother, Donnie stomped into his lab, slamming the door.

"Whoa, what's got Braniac all worked up?"

Mikey turned and frowned at his two older siblings on the couch. He didn't really want to tell Raph. He would never hear the end of _that_ teasing. And Leo would probably agree with Donnie if he tried to explain about the monster. So Mikey did the next best thing.

"I'm going to bed."

Surprised, both brothers opened their mouths to pry further, but Mikey was already leaping up to the second floor. Without turning back he entered his room, slamming the door. That would keep nosy brothers from bugging him.

Sighing heavily, Mikey sat on his bed, his nightlight bathing him in a soft glow. The thin sheen of sweat on his body made him feel cold, adding to the misery he felt. He was _sure_ that thing was real. There was no way after everything he and his family has been through, that he could ignore what he saw. If he could be sent to an alternate dimension, then things like that monster could certainly exist.

"It was real," he said softly to himself. "I know it was."

Mikey dejectedly lay his head in his hands, accidentally dislodging one of his nunchukus from his belt. Noisily it clattered to the ground before rolling beneath his bed. Sighing in frustration, Mikey lowered himself to the ground looking for his lost weapon.

Reaching beneath the bed, Mikey peered into the dark beneath his bed before a hand gripped his own, dragging him closer to the wide grin full of jagged teeth.


	10. Day 10 - DevilDemon

Ever since they were kids Raphael and Leo had always had an odd relationship. When they got along, they were inseparable. Almost joined at the hip. Mikey used to call them the "Wonder Twins." But when they didn't…things got out of hand quickly.

It had gotten worse after Leo returned from South America. Sure they didn't come to blows any more, but their words were sharp and meant to cut deep. Both went for the jugular, using their words and knowledge of each other to poke and prod at their deepest fears. Slowly but surely, their bad days came more often than the good.

Leo angrily slammed his door breathing hard. He and Raph had gotten into it again, and this time, Leo wasn't sure he could ever forgive him. Clenching his fist, Leo stalked over to his meditation mat. With shaking hands he lit the candles, trying to calm his residual anger.

As the smell of incense permeated the air, he lowered himself to his mat, breathing deeply as he attempted to center himself. Slowly. In. Out. In. Out. Leo could feel the tension leaving him, even if the anger had yet to subside. Rather than push it away, he focused on it. Using it to bring a central focus to what had made him so upset.

Listening back to the words that had passed between them, Leo could feel righteous anger ebb and flow around him. The night had started off so calm. So perfectly ordered, with a basic patrol around the southern edge of the city. The four of them were easily maneuvering across the rooftops, and darting through the shadows. It wasn't until they were turning back home that the peacefulness of the night was shattered. Foot ninjas flooded the roof they were on so quickly Leo barely had time to draw his swords from his sheath. Raphael charged right in, without waiting for direction, and nearly had his head taken off. It was a lucky throw of a ninja star by Leo that had saved the hothead.

The battle had raged on and the turtles just barely managed to escape, but not without quite a few bumps, bruises, and cuts. Leo was fuming not only at his lack of attention that lead them into the ambush, but at Raph's rash behavior. Naturally, the two of them began to argue, which led Leo to where he was now. Seething in anger and guilt over the whole evening.

"Seems like tonight was pretty bad."

Startled Leo opened his eyes, taking in the stark white of the spiritual plane. Unlike his usual meditation, this time something had manifested before him. A black cat, slunk low on the ground, curling around his legs.

"Who are you?" Leo asked cautiously.

Master Splinter had warned of the strange things that could appear in the spiritual plane. Things were often not what they appeared, whether to aid or hinder the one so deep in meditation.

"Hmmm the question I think is not who but what?" the cat purred softly.

Ice grey eyes met deep blue as the pair observed each other. Stepping away from the feline, Leo reached out with his soul, trying to ascertain just what had stumbled into his mind. The cat sat back on its haunches, coolly twitching its tail.

"You are a part of this plane?" Leo questioned.

The cat chuckled at the confused turtle.

"Indeed this is where I reside, but my purpose lies elsewhere."

"What do you mean?

"My purpose is to provide avenues for the visitors of this place to achieve great things. To focus their desires and will."

"A spiritual guide then," Leo surmised.

The cat canted his head to the side in thought.

"In a fashion, yes," he agreed. "Which is why I've appeared before you it seems."

Leo sighed as the cat again rose to its feet.

"Then you are aware of what plagues me," Leo muttered.

"Indeed your emotions surrounding your brother are quite," the cat paused thinking. "Intriguing."

Leo scoffed.

"More like infuriating," he said. "No matter what I do, or what I try, we end up fighting each other. I hate it!"

Leo stopped short at the level of animosity that laced his words. The whole point of this meditation session was to understand and _control_ his anger. Not feed it. Dejectedly the turtle hung his head.

"I just want the fighting to stop."

"I can help you with that," the cat crooned.

Leo looked down at the feline who stared intensely back. Is this what he needed? Spiritual guidance to bring his family back into balance?

"What do I have to do?"

The cat grinned at the turtle, stepping onto thin air and rising as if on invisible stairs. Leo waited until the cat was eye level with him.

"Clear your mind," the cat instructed. "Think only of the conflict you have endured all this time. Then when you are ready, tell me exactly what you want done about it."

Closing his eyes, Leo thought. He thought about all the times Raph had ignored his orders. All the times that Raph was injured because he was too rash. All the harsh words the hothead flung at him is fits of rage. How deeply those fights wounded him.

"I never want to fight with Raphael again," the blue-banded turtle said fervently.

Opening his eyes, the turtle was shocked to find, not a black cat in front of him, but a thin man with jet-black hair, alabaster skin and dark bottomless eyes.

"So it shall be done," the man said with a smile. And just like that the man vanished, leaving Leo alone in the vast white expanse of the spiritual plane. Shaken, Leo forced himself to return to his body, opening his eyes to his dimly lit room filled with sputtering candles.

A growing feeling of dread sat heavily in Leo's stomach as he rose from the floor. What did the man mean? Was the cat the same as the man? What kind of help would a spiritual guide give? Anxiously Leo opened his door, heading directly for Raph's room. On most occasions, intruding on Raphael in his domain was a death-wish, but Leo had to know. Just what had that man-cat done?

Gently Leo knocked on the door. No point starting another fight with Raph by just barging in. When the leader received no answer he knocked again, harder. Leo shifted his weight between his feet, growing more anxious by the second.

"What'chya doin' Leo?"

Surprised Leo spun around, looking at his youngest brother guiltily.

"I just…I just wanted to apologize to Raph," he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

The young turtle looked back in confusion.

"Who?"

Leo dropped his hand in exasperation.

"Raphael, Mikey. I want to make up with him."

The orange-banded turtle just stared at him in confusion.

"Uh Leo…you feelin' ok bro? There's no one by that name here, unless this Raph guy started living in the storage room in the last 30 minutes."

Eyes blown wide Leo whirled back to the closed door throwing it open. Layers of dust flew into the air before settling again on the odd knick-knacks and assorted furniture items residing in the room.

Falling to his knees, Leo could barely hold in his scream of terror. What had that _thing_ done? Where was his brother?!

A soft voice floated from the shadows.

"I only did what you asked," it whispered. "You'll never fight with your brother again."


	11. Day 11 - Hunger

It was a constant fight to stay the aching, gnawing vacuum that resided in his core. It was such a basic state before, but with the… "gift" it became so much more. It was a physical force that day by day was chipping away at him.

He was just so _hungry_. Maybe just one? There were plenty of spares.

NO!

They were supposed to mean something. He couldn't go through with it. They were…so trusting. So blindly, stupidly trusting. He was all they knew. Of course they trusted him.

And really, didn't they owe him? Caring for them had been no easy feat. Preying on the lesser things in the sewers, keeping that _hunger_ at bay with wretched lower beings barely enough to keep it in check. He had been lucky when his young ones stumbled onto that vicious gator as tots. That had sated the _hunger_ for weeks!

But they were older now. More watchful. That new large friend of theirs…the very thought of that meal made him drool. No. Too much work.

The humans? No, they would be missed. No. Really his best option was right in front of him.

"Sensei?"

"Yes my son?"

"Mikey and Raph went with Donnie to the junkyard. May I meditate with you?"

The _hunger_ roared in his core. He smiled.

"Of course my son."


	12. Day 12 - Clock

Donatello loved building things. Finding little mechanisms that would somehow create big movement. Or figuring out the exact amount of energy it would take to make his creations work. He loved it all, but nothing made him happier than clocks. Such intricate pieces of machinery that housed so many cogs, gears, and yet worked so perfectly together. An engineer's dream, if he was to be honest.

Sitting at his workbench, Donnie could only feel satisfaction in his work. Machines like these made sense. Cleaning, repairing, and even replacing them were well within the realm of his skill. No wondering if they were hiding fatal errors. No worrying about damaging them beyond repair. And certainly no screaming. Just a gentle _tick tock_ in the background.

Donnie frowned into the guts of the machinery before him. Why couldn't it just be this easy? Really, he _understood_ this. This piece connected to that one. The lever there would activate that switch here. It made _sense_.

Donnie thought back to the blood. The squelching sounds as tendons slipped over each other. The gore that covered his arms and plastron, tainting the air with a stale iron scent that still somehow clung to his hands. How unlike the pristine innards of his machines. Clocks required lubrication too of course but the amount of blood to keep a living being going? Ridiculous!

Donatello growled as he recalled the frustration he encountered every time his brothers returned with injuries. How inane that something as simple as a drop of sewer water could contaminate the entire body. Simply infuriating how a weak vein could rupture at a moment's notice. Illogical that he must not only fix an imperfect biological machine, his family expected him to care. As if patching up such a shoddy thing as a body was an accomplishment. It was like slapping duct tape on a cracked circuit board. It was only a matter of time before the whole thing crashed, so why bother?

Donatello clicked yet another cog into place, before winding the mechanism. A part of him wondered if maybe he was missing something essential. Something that explained the world's obsession with living organisms and keeping them running.

With a snort of amusement, Donnie finally closed the front of his plastron, latching it shut. What did it matter what the world thought. Listening to the gentle _tick tock_ in his chest, Donnie smiled. At least _he_ made sense.


	13. Day 13 - Midnight

April breathed hard, her heart pounding. It was so loud she was sure they could hear it in her chest.

Five more minutes. She just had to last five more minutes.

"Aaaaaprrriiiiiillllll" a chillingly cold voice called.

April held her breath, trying desperately to melt into the shadows on the wall.

"We just want to play April."

April bit her lip hard. The demon had said it would release the brothers if she could hide until midnight. That was the deal.

April let out a silent scream as a green hand shot out and wrapped around her throat.

"Foooouuuund yooouuuu!"


End file.
